The People We Meet in High School
by rweasleys
Summary: "Most kids these days have straight teeth and crooked morals."
1. prologue

**THE PEOPLE WE MEET IN HIGH SCHOOL**

rating: T (for swearing and "safety")  
disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters/titles/songs/etc. mentioned in this story.

* * *

_"Most kids these days have straight teeth and crooked morals."_

_**The Queen Bee.**_

Perfect hair, all the latest styles, new arm candy every day. That's the life **Massie Block** lives. She lives life in the fast-lane, drinking from life's lush lips, a perfect life for a perfect girl, right? She's full of herself and prides herself in being Goldenrod's head girl. If America had royalty, the Block's would be it. The family line has been pulsing through the country's history for years. Massie can have anything and everything she wants in a matter of seconds. Grades are but letters to her, she's already got a seat secured at Harvard, grades are just a cushion. Only one problem, deep down inside she has this insecurity because even she knows that she can never be the prettiest, the sweetest, the skinniest or the smartest.

_**The 'IT' Girl.**_

Every school, no matter where in the world, has an 'IT' girl. The girl who can get just about any guy, parties every night, and dresses out of school code without being punished. Dark brown, hip length hair, big brown eyes that you can't help but get lost in, **Alicia Rivera** is the epitome of a boy's dream. She follows Massie around like a true best friend, and following her is a pack of hungry teenage boys. With pure Spanish blood coursing through her and an Australian citizenship and passport you can already assume that she's a model in training. This Spanish bombshell is more than just looks, she's conniving and heartless. She'll steal your boyfriend in a matter of minutes, driving you to tears in a flurry of well-thought out insults in seconds. She makes everyone's business her own, and if you don't do as she says you're more than just screwed, you're dead meat.

_**The Golden Girl.**_

**Kristen Gregory** is hardworking, opinionated and temperamental, yet in the eyes of the student body she is everything they wish they were. Kristen is beautiful, different from Alicia, yet still beautiful. Her buttery blonde waves are always trimmed to perfection, never hanging in front of her eyes or growing past chest length, she's got the frame of a model, with long legs and a lanky body. Her only priority is getting into college, it doesn't matter that her father is one of the top art dealers in the world and her mother is an ex-model, she wants to prove herself, getting in somewhere without the help of her nosy parents. A Dubai doll through and through she's lived the life of a princess, attending hot parties, sipping the most expensive wines. Kristen does not approve of the scandalous lives Alicia and Massie live, yet she lets them do as they please choosing it better than to argue with them. Being the brain, Kristen keeps out of trouble, or does she? You never know at Goldenrod.

**_The Artist._**

A sweet face, flowery clothing and soulful eyes that are always lost in the clouds. Almost always found under a tree, sketch book in her lap, a pencil in hand, drawing anything and everything in sight.** Claire Lyons** is a mystery to most of Goldenrod, she's quiet and always in her own world. You'll hear her humming to her own tune in choir class, creating random concoctions in Chemistry, drawing rather than writing in English class and silently observing rather than joining in. She's never spotted without her hundred dollar sketch pad and any writing utensil she picked up that morning when waking up. Boys more than dream about Claire, but most give up at trying to get her, deeming her a lost cause. Maybe this year she'll step out of that trance she's in, or maybe someone will cast a spell on her.

_**The Boys' Best Friend.**_

With her mother being the all too famous Merri Lee Marvil, **Dylan Marvil** is obviously an A-Lister. The only funny thing is who she chooses to spend her time with, the boys. It's a joke around school that she was mistaken for a boy at birth, thus her name. The guys don't see her as anything more than a sister, or should we say brother? Dylan was sent off after being a riot in the world of Hollywood, and in all the wrong ways. When first walking through the doors of GPA's pristine cafeteria she stood out by seating herself with the boys, cracking one too many 'that's what she said' jokes and letting out a belcher, the rest is history. Lately though Dylan's been seeing one of her friends as a little more than just a friend, will her reputation keep her from getting him? Probably, unless someone can help her change that...

_**The Klutz.**_

If Mean Girls was reality, **Olivia Ryan** would be Karen. She's a bottle blonde, with what some can consider brain damage like idiocy and is a little more slutty than a high school girl should be. Not only is she all of the above, but Olivia is constantly tripping, most of the time it's over nothing. She'll be having a conversation and will topple like a house of cards. Olivia's known to ask the dumbest of dumb questions, so if she's your desk partner beware, you'll probably loose more brain cells than banging your head against a wall. Olivia grew up on a huge vineyard in Northern California, the only thing she can do right is ride a horse, surprisingly she rarely falls off. Olivia badly wants in on Massie's little crew, but she knows that she'll have to do a lot more than just dress up to be accepted.

_**The Rebel.**_

Netted tights, flasks of alcohol, studded boots, black eyeliner, leather shorts, and a half empty box of cigarettes in her locker, the only thing keeping **Nikolette Dalton** at GPA is her background and her grades. Always seen smoking pot during class with the burnouts, only coming to class on the days of exams. Nikki is not popular by association but popular by her own accord. She's beautiful in a cruel way and she's untouchable by anything, including the school policies. Her daddy and mommy are huge political endorsers, her father being the French ambassador. Nikki has been to every fashion night since she was two, had a bank account in her name at age five and personally knows anyone who is involved in politics personally. Her family is tightly knit with the Blocks' even though Massie denies any sort of relationship with Nikki. Nikki's parents have high expectations for their only child and are only concerned with her grades being perfect and her record being clean, even if it takes piles of their money to assure their dear little Nikki's success. Nikki can swear in four different languages, not including English, and spends her summers in France partying with the fabulous Elite of Paris.

_**The Gossip-Whore.**_

**Schulyer Hamilton** prides herself in knowing _everything_ about _everyone_. She's never been at the top of the food chain but she provides them with all their meat, assuring her a safe and secured spot at all the hot parties and get togethers, her A-list rep never being questioned. She walks around school with a smirk on her perfect lips, similar to that of her step brother Derrick. You'll never even see Skye coming, her ballerina feet making it practically impossible for you to hear her approaching. She dangles her hold over her brother over all the other girls, making everyone want her approval. Born and bred in New Zealand, she was only introduced to America when she was in high school, her mother marrying Andrew Harrington the business tycoon. This year though, she's not looking for being just an A-lister, no-she's looking to snag the damn crown off Massie Block's head.

_**The Freak.**_

**Layne Abeley** takes freak to the next level. Always clad in neon colors, with random streaks in her hair, nails with different designs every day, cluttered 'magic' holding necklaces, oddly shaped rings, and a book of spells and horoscopes in her bag. Layne grew up in Southern Africa and _hates _boarding school. She'd rather be at home going on safari's every weekend and volunteering at Masi villages. Layne has quite the reputation, which basically consists of her being crazed. She's made a name for herself, possibly because on the first day of school she stood up on a lunch table in the middle of the cafeteria, clad in nothing but a potato sack with petition boards in her hand, staging a protest for the lack of vegetarian food provided. If you walk into Layne's dorm its filled with weird voodoo books and everything is in perfect symmetry, something she picked up in China. Layne parades around school reading people's palms and yelling rude things to people eating meat, such as "MEAT'S NO TREAT FOR THOSE YOU EAT!" This year though, she's out to find a partner in crime...who will be her victim?

_**The Man-Whore.**_

**Cameron Fisher** has been with literally, every girl at GPA, not including a few of his close friends and creeps. Girls will willing fall at his feet and boys follow him around, trying to understand exactly how he works his magic. If his mismatched eyes don't get you weak in the knees, then his messy black hair will, if that doesn't do the trick then you're either lesbian or you've been taken in by his charm. Cam's mysterious yet alluring, he can be loud yet quiet, smart yet stupid and every other contradicting thing in the world. Of course his best friend is Derrick Harrington, an obvious trick of fate. The two have been inseparable since birth. Cam can be very kind to those he's closest with, which happen to be the people who actually wait long enough for him to actually talk. Once you get past all the walls around him, the heir to the world's top oil company can be a pretty great guy...who are we kidding? He's terrible.

_**The One Your Mother Told You To Stay Away From.**_

At Goldenrod Preparatory Academy, fucked up is spelt as K-E-M-P H-U-R-L-E-Y. **Kemp Hurley** is about as screwed in the head as bolt in a door. He's unstable, never committing and never paying attention to anything. He's a parent's worst nightmare, addicted to drugs, alcohol and women. Kemp is the guy who can hook you up with a fake I.D and a hot club to use it at. His dorm fridge is filled with expensive vodka and more than often you'll spot him showing up at school high off of one thing or the other. His mother is an actress and he's spent his days off and on from the Caribbean where his mother's beach house (_or should we say mansion?_) is situated to his father's island estate off the coast of Greece. His experience in womanizing and poisoning his body with drugs goes all the way back to eighth grade and will probably continue for the rest of his life until he takes up his father's world famous hotel chain.

**_The Geek._**

Every messed up group of boys needs a brainchild, and **Christopher Plovert** just happens to be that guy. Chris can tell you the answer to a math question faster than you can type it into your calculator, he can fix any computer problem and can ace an English essay-or any essay, for any language-with a well-phrased one liner. He's not all brains though, he's got looks to back him up and a cute dimple induced smile. Even with his perfection, he's never had more than two girlfriends, causing gay jokes to be mainly centered around him. He's a heavy drinker at times, but stays sober until the weekends. After his parents' death from when he was a child, he's been living in Italy with his aunt and uncle, that's until attending GPA. Christopher's sister is rotting in some expensive rehabilitation center in Milan and he refuses to screw his future up like she did.

**_The Sweetheart._**

**Joshua Hotz** is handsome and kind, can you get a better a combo? He knows just how to treat a girl and knows exactly what to say and when to say it. If you're feeling down he's the guy to go to, he's more than understanding. Most girls think of him as just a friend but the lucky ones who see past his brotherly manners will find themselves in a true romantic affair. Josh is from Portugal, bringing with him all the eccentric quirks of his home along with it's charm. He knows most of the A-list girls secrets, and people find themselves spilling their deepest stories when speaking with him. Josh has never been picky with who he chooses for a relationship, but this year, the tables have turned.

**_The Party Crasher_.**

After a week of finals and studying (_or pretending to_), you'll be attending a high flying party, music beating, strobes dancing and cups being passed around party, this is where you'll spot **Todd Lyons**. He'll be getting drunk, taking his shirt off and jumping up and down. This light-weight can get drunk in just three cups of alcohol. The young freshman is known for crashing upperclassmen parties, the only reason he hasn't been beaten to a pulp is because everyone pities him because of who his sister is. Todd can never be spotted in class or around campus, only at parties. This makes people wonder if he's even enrolled at GPA.

_**The Asshole.**_

Know-it-all, jerk, spoilt brat, rude ass, all descriptions of **Landon Crane**, son of the entrepreneur Jason Crane. Landon is only popular because of his connections, if possible he would have been booted out of the A-List clique ages ago. He's a brat, always criticizing everything, never satisfied with anything. He's never seen without a Burberry scarf, Chuck Bass anyone? Landon is an inconsiderate bloke, he'll say something rude without even meaning to and when he does mean to, you better have a box of Kleenex ready. Everyone's waiting for the day when the right girl will come along and slap Landon silly, maybe then he'll learn his place. So far though, that hasn't happened.

_**The King of Kings.**_

**Derrick Harrington** is who every guy wants to be and who every girl wants. He's the soccer captain, dates only the hottest girls that GPA has to offer, and is _filthy_ rich. Derrick out does everyone in _everything_. He's smarter than Chris in one way or another, has done every girl before Cam has, knows more about women than Josh, has attended dozens more upperclassmen parties in his freshmen year than Todd ever will (plus the fact he was actually invited), has gotten way more high than Kemp ever has, and has even been a bigger douche than Landon has. Yet people can't help but love Derrick. Even though he continues to cross lines, push past people, take short-cuts and take the easy way out it's a fact of life that Derrick will succeed and so will every Harrington after him. He has the Harrington looks and charm along with the attitude of a celebrity, which he might as well be. His father, Andrew Harrington, is a household name, known for being one of the richest Americans. Derrick has been all over the world spending more money than you're worth. How far will his money take him this year?

_**with appearances by:**_

**Allie-Rose Singer, Becca Wilder, Dempsey Solomon, Dune Baxter, Conner Foley _and more_.  
**

* * *

_Oh my lord, it's been AGES since I've written anything...don't ask why I'm writing this, I just felt like it. If any of you started reading The Twelve Days of Christmas I'm terribly sorry for not continuing it, my computer got a horrid virus and then it broke -_ , in this story they're all from various places in the world and are juniors, except for Todd. _

_Review?_

_-Alyssa. _


	2. chapter o1

**_chapter o1._ **

Opening the door of her dorm room, the first thing Allie-Rose Singer saw was a black-haired girl, with tanned skin, straddling a boy and kissing the life out of him. She first stopped, her manicured hand still tightly wound around the doorknob and then her gut instinct told her she should probably shut the door and come back later.

The raven-haired girl turned though, faster than Allie-Rose could bolt it and the girl gave Allie-Rose a tantalizing smile, her ethereal beauty making Allie-Rose question why she was even alive.

"_Oh!_" The girl got up, ignoring the protests of the boy on the bed, who simply grumbled and grabbed his phone from the nightstand, "You must be my new roommate," she grinned, her black hair falling all around her and tumbling down her sharp collarbones where a Tom Binns necklace was sparkling over the girl's casual Calypso Barth tee and her white short-shorts. She had dark brown eyes, ones that you could find on just about anyone, but lined with thick, black eyelashes and with an understanding softness, even her eyes were prettier than Allie-Rose, _wonderful_. "I'm Alicia Rivera," she cooed, holding out a hand covered in diamond-studded Cartier bangles.

It took Allie-Rose a second to process that the girl was Australian, or British, or whatever. It only made Allie-Rose feel even more lame in comparison. Her self-esteem of being at a new school had plummeted to an all time low. It was like being a contestant of Biggest Loser and standing beside Miranda Kerr - utterly embarrassing.

"I'm Allie-Rose Singer," Allie said, holding her hand out. Alicia grabbed it and shook it firmly. She didn't seem even slightly self-conscious that Allie-Rose had walked in on her getting ready to undress with a strange boy who was just lying in boredom on one of the two queen-sized beds. "Uh, hi."

Alicia continued to smile warmly at Allie-Rose and then plopped down on a plush beanbag that was on her side of the extremely spacious dorm-room. Allie presumed that the unbelievably pricey tuition did in fact go somewhere. There were two large beds, two big oak vanities and two mirrored closets and a door to a private bathroom that was currently oozing the smell of coconut shampoo.

Luckily enough, Allie's things had been brought in the day before, her luggage had been shipped to the school and one of the staff members had brought it up before her arrival, it had seemed however,that she wouldn't be getting a say in which side was hers or what the room turned out like, Alicia had already made herself at home.

"Allie-Rose," most of the time it would have irritated Allie that someone had to say her entire name but when Alicia said it, it sounded kind of poetic, "this is Cameron Fisher," the boy in question looked up at his name being said and gave Allie a half grin. His hair was kind of shaggy and fell into his eyes, it was jet black and made even Alicia's hair look brown in comparison. The interesting part were his eyes, which only in the light could you see were two completely different colors - one blue, one green - it was kind of freaky and ultimately attractive.

"Call me Cam," he drawled.

Allie smiled back awkwardly and then unzipped her Kate Spade luggage, scooping out the contents and dropping them on her bed, trying and failing at looking as nonchalant as Alicia Rivera who at this point was still staring at Allie's back.

"Well then," Cam muttered, getting up and buttoning his shirt. "I'd best be going and allow you two ladies to get to know each other...perhaps pillow fights in your underwear, dumping wine on each other, the works." His voice was kind of deep and hollow, and wasn't too loud either, but it was the kind of voice that made you want to listen.

"Shut up, Cam!" Alicia threw an embroidered_ A_ pillow at the door just as it clicked shut.

"Your boyfriend is quite the charmer," Allie-Rose said, holding up a DKNY sweater and debating whether or not to change into it.

"Boyfriend?" Alicia cackled - _fantastic_, even her laugh was sexy - "please, he's not my boyfriend...ooh, cute sweater!" Alicia got up and made her way to Allie, her skinny and yet curvy body pressing against Allie's bed. "Mind if I borrow?"

"Sure," Allie-Rose shrugged and threw the sweater at Alicia who it seemed was doused in the intoxicating scent of Angel. For some reason, Allie-Rose felt like she'd seen Alicia somewhere, maybe she'd modeled for Vogue or Elle, in fact Allie wouldn't be the least bit surprised if Alicia had.

"I think this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship Ms. Singer. Let's toast to it." Alicia got up and tiptoed to her mini fridge, pulling out a bottle of wine and a bottle of Scotch, "which will it be?"

_Great_, Allie-Rose thought, her new roommate was a slutty alcoholic.

* * *

"This seat taken?" Massie Block stopped tapping her OPI coated nails against her table at _Venti!_, the new hit school cafe. The voice was all too familiar and Massie just rolled her eyes.

"Fine, but this better be good, Hamilton." Skye Hamilton smiled menacingly at Massie to which Massie rolled her amber eyes. Skye's blonde hair was up in a twisted, smooth, chignon bun with a plaid headband encrusted with Swarowski crystals. Her long legs were exposed with a tight, navy blue pencil skirt and a white halter neck, silk, shirt gave her chest and shoulders more than enough breathing room. _Slut_.

"Well, you know how much I _love_ the Hamptons, don't you?" Massie sipped her skinny latte, bored already. She let her eyes swoop the crowd, looking for someone far more interesting to speak with. On most occasions she'd tell Skye off, but for some reason Skye seemed too smug for Massie to not listen. She thought of all the people she'd rather be talking to, top on the list was her delicious boyfriend of a year and a half, Danny Robbins, who was staring at Yale in the matter of a week. Massie smiled to herself and then turned to Skye, raising a perfectly plucked brow.

"I don't actually know that and I couldn't care less, but please get to the fucking point," pushing aside her razor cut bangs, that gave just the flirty touch that Massie was going for, she pursed her glossed lips in hopes that Skye Hamilton would hurry the fuck up so that Massie could finally go back to her dorm room and attend her scheduled date with September's issue of Vogue, preparing for hers, Kristen's and Alicia's back-to-school sleepover.

"Hm, always in a hurry," Skye's eyes twinkled and she spun the back of her Samsung Galaxy on the clean tabletop, around and around and around. "_Anyway_," the momentary thought of spilling her drink on Skye occurred to Massie, but she brushed it aside, taking to check her Michael Kors rose-gold watch instead, "I was there this summer, as you know, with my family...including my step-brother, and I just so happened to catch some very interesting things...how long have you and Danny been dating again?"

Massie's stomach dropped, she looked back to Skye, and stared into those heartless, light blue eyes that had more than often reminded Massie of the Tiffany&Co. boxes. Then again, Tiffany boxes made Massie happy with the prospect of finding something new and shiny, whereas Skye was dangling Massie's life right in front of her very eyes, and nothing about this was _happy_.

"Wh-what?" Massie asked, raising her wrist to bring the welcoming scent of Chanel No. 5 to her ski-slope nose. For all Massie knew Skye was playing one of her little games, and in fact knew nothing at all.

"I have pictures," Skye said, a monstrous look flashing through her eyes, "would you like to see?" Without any hesitation, Skye opened up her pictures folder and scrolled through the albums until she reached one titled 'Oops!' and giggling to herself for a moment, she opened it with a click and showed Massie exactly what she feared. "Junior year is going to be _great_, isn't it Mass?"

Massie nodded numbly, whoever said the Devil wears prada was wrong, the Devil wore Lacoste and the Devil was sitting right across from Massie with a look of complete bliss on her face.

Skye Hamilton was the Devil's incarnate, and here Massie Block thought _she_ was the bitch.

* * *

If someone were to ask Kemp Hurley what he thought of perfection, he'd point a finger at Claire Lyons, then again no one really ever asked such a stupid question.

Leaned up against a tree, with her blonde hair blowing in the hot Connecticut wind and her eyes trained to a notepad while her long limbs were stretched around her, she looked absolutely celestial.

"-did you hear a thing I just said?" Kristen Gregory asked. Kemp shook his head and then looked at Kristen who was juggling four AP textbooks in one arm as she felt around her skirt for her phone. Kemp had to admit, that Kristen was quite a match for Claire. With short wispy, butter-blonde hair, pouty pink lips, pale skin that turned red at nearly any dirty comment, and legs that ran for miles, she was quite the catch. That and her gray-blue eyes always had a look of set concentration. But Kemp wasn't interested.

"No," he responded honestly, grabbing two books from Kristen, she muttered a thankful response and ducked her head to search her bag. "You know what, why don't you go back to your dorm and I'll go look in the library for your phone?"

Kristen's eyes widened and she raised her eyebrows, "_you,_ doing a _good_ deed? What drug are you on this time, Hurley?" Kemp smiled at Kristen and shrugged, rolling her eyes she walked away from him, "alright, thanks, I owe you one, and that doesn't mean hooking up in the janitor's closet by the way." He waited a good two minutes until she was out of sight (she had a nice ass, what was he supposed to do?), before jogging over to Claire Lyons.

"Hey," Claire looked up, looking like someone had just shaken her from a deep sleep and she pushed away a strand of golden hair, "how was your summer?" At this Claire grinned broadly, her pearly white teeth almost blinding.

"Great, and yours?" She asked, shutting her notepad when seeing Kemp's wandering eyes, and stood up.

"Fine, didn't see you though, so I guess that's a problem," Claire laughed, throwing her head back and then bit her lip, her body still shaking from silent mirth, her cheeks tinted with the slightest hue of pink.

"You're sweet," she muttered in her soft voice, "I'll see you soon, yeah?" She asked, pulling down her too-short pale pink dress that was fluttering in the wind, Kemp nodded woefully and watched her walk away through the grass towards Layton House where Kristen had already trekked to.

He was really starting to become pathetic.

* * *

"Nikki, if you get the smell of cigarettes on any of my limited edition Marc Jacobs clutches, I will _throttle_ you." Carrie Randolph said. Carrie narrowed her hazel eyes at Nikki and threw her light brown hair over her shoulder, stomping her Valentino pumps over to her side of the room.

"You mean the bags you have in _every_, _single_,_ fucking_ color?" Nikki asked, her raspy voice was nearly chilling and Nikki loved the sound of it. Nikki lit up her third cigarette and watched Carrie throw open the bedroom window, shooting Nikki another glare.

"They're limited edition, Marc sent them to my mother himself," Carrie sat on the edge of her bed and unlatched her LV trunk, carefully pulling out eight bags that looked exactly the same but in different shades. Sickening really.

"_Oooh_," Nikki teased, "sounds expensive." Nikki walked towards Carrie and then, with a look at the horror on Carrie' face, Nikki put her cigarette out on the green version of the _Limited Edition March Jacobs Clutch, _"that one's cute," Nikki taunted, with a final laugh, she walked out of the room and let the door slam behind her.

Nikki loved a little thrill and she was beyond pissed that she was stuck in a double bedroom when she'd in fact had her own single bedroom for the past two years, ever since Livvy Collins got kicked out of Layton and sent to the Barnes dorms (where she belonged).

Letting her studded Steve Madden boots guide her out of Layton, Nikki walked with the poise of a princess and the stomp of a biker, her black hair up in a loose bun and a cigarette threatening to fall from her lips - unlit and ready to burn. Nikki found the pasty cigarette as a kind of metaphorical kick. Marching past horrified parents and students alike, Nikki, with her Aqua di Gio and smoke scented aura, made her way towards the Bentley boys' dorms.

Room 204 was the one she was going for and when she opened the door she was almost delighted.

"Nikki," a voice said knowingly. The back of said speaker was turned away from Nikki, hunched over a laptop, no doubt working on a school essay that was due the next day. "Need something?"

"Tell me Joshua, how the hell it's fair that I am stuck with the world's biggest prat, while everyone else has their own dorm? _Hm_?" She kicked off her boots and reclined on his newly made bed. It smelt faintly like mint and washed clothes. It was comforting and yet in seconds it would be inevitably covered in the scent of Nikki Dalton. "She has the exact same bag in every color of the rainbow, she's deranged! How do you reason they decided to put _me_ with_ her_?"

"Because you threw a party in your room last semester with students from LA that _don't_ go here, and then had a girl's hair catch on fire, that's if I remember correctly," Josh swiveled around to face her. In his pale yellow polo and his freshly cut hair, Nikki thought that if she was a prep bitch like Massie Block, she might have had the urge to kiss him, but that was neither here nor there.

"Sounds like it was a blast," Nikki drawled, quirking a smile his way, Josh rolled his eyes and then kicked his legs up on the book stand beside him, The Other Side of Paradise, The Right Stuff and In Cold Blood toppled over and Josh didn't even flinch as they slapped against the hardwood floors. "Now, do you have any ideas on how we can have a little fun?" Nikki quirked a black eyebrow, weaving her unlit cigarette from finger to finger and back again, her kohl stained eyes watching Josh with intensity.

"I've told you a million times, Dalton, I'm not an avid supporter of..._herbal meds_...like you just so happen to be." Nikki cackled and rolled over on Josh's bed, her slouchy Acne sweater twisting around her body.

"I missed you, Hotz, you and I are going to have quite some fun this year."

* * *

Derrick Harrington wanted to save face, at least a little, but so far it wasn't going so well for him.

In fact, he was in the Rosenburg library studying for his AP Rhetoric test, that was no doubt going to be on the summer reading he hadn't done, _on Move-In Day_. What kind of cold-hearted bitch assigned summer homework? If he was lucky the teacher would be some sort of easygoing, hot woman that he could easily persuade with his boyish charms.

He shrugged at this thought and flipped the page in his novel, something to do with a lady who had cells stolen from her or something and he wasn't sure whether it was fiction or nonfiction or what the hell the thing was even about. Setting the orange book down, he looked around the library thoughtfully, there had to be some nerd here that could debrief him. He wasn't even able to find the damn book on SparkNotes and if the idiots who ran that website didn't even want to write about it, then the book _had_ to suck.

Just his luck he saw a brush of chestnut tresses weave behind a bookshelf and he got up to go approach the frigid bitch herself, she always did her summer work and with any luck she would have Kristen's notes.

"Are you Derrick?" Derrick was halfway to Massie Block when he stopped and stared at a girl with freakishly light green eyes and brown hair that looked like she had cut it herself. Her hair curled around in wisps and she smelled like his mom's chamomile tea. Not to mention the fact that she was dressed in a long brown skirt with a t-shirt that was too tight to be acceptable (not that he minded) which read MAKE LOVE, NOT WAR. He was alarmed for her though, how did she go to GPA and not know who he was for certain? Maybe she was new. "Hello?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm Derrick, who's asking?" He asked, rubbing the back of his neck, a few girls at a table next to him giggled at his gesture and he grinned at them, but was quickly broken from his trance by the snapping fingers of the girl in front of him.

"_Hey?_ Okay, thank you, _I_ was in fact asking. Can you give these to Cam, the asshole left them in my room last semester," she held up a pair of black Polo boxers and Derrick literally stepped back when she pinched the fabric and held it up to his face.

"_What the hell_?! Why would I ever touch _that_?" He whisper-hissed. He made a dirty face and then realized the gravity of what she was implying, "wait, you and Cam?" He raised his eyebrows and messed up his already messy blonde hair. Cam really did get around - he was best friends with a whore.

The girl rolled her eyes and then grimaced, "he gets a thrill out of doing the nasty on my African sheets with the incense sticks burning." Derrick snorted, "well _excuse me_, I'm perfectly bangable, I'd just like to let you know." Derrick laughed, biting his lip hard to keep the laughter from getting him kicked out of the library. "You're unbelievable, _whatever_, can you give these back to him? My mom found them and she's kind of a bit suspicious as it, so it would be nice of you to er, return them."

"I don't know what possessed you to think I'd take those, _whatever-your-name-is_, but you might as well throw them in the trash, I'm sure Cameron dearest has other underwear."

"First off, the name is Layne, secondly, he told me these were his lucky pair, so I'm trying to do the right thing and give them back." At Layne's rather loud statement a few people looked up and saw her standing there, one hand on her hip and the other holding out a pair of boxers in Derrick's face. If she kept this up people would get the completely wrong idea. Derrick hooked up with girls like Alicia Rivera and Olivia Ryan, not Layne the Underwear Thief.

"That's probably just a line, now could you lower those?" Derrick pushed her hand down and finally Layne gave up, shoving the boxers in her bag and then began muttering in some foreign language that Derrick was pretty sure was Swahili. "Alright, thank you." Layne mumbled something that sounded like 'whatever' and turned to leave, "wait, have you by chance read this?" He held up his book and Layne scoffed at him.

"_Obviously_."

* * *

_**a/n:** this is so pathetic, ughhh. i didn't even edit._

_i know where i want to go with this story and what everyone's storylines are but i hate my writing style and i was literally stuck on how to start this for like a year. so here it is. i know i left out a lot of people and i changed some people's personalities, but i will fix all of that once i get fully moving into the plot. most of the time i wouldn't introduce a problem in the very first chapter but i didn't want to stall it so as you can see massie and skye don't get along and skye has something on massie. _

_i also really want to play around with all the different pairings but i do know what pairings i'm going to use for endgame, well for now at least. so please comment with any ideas you have or any pairings you'd like to see, etc._

_MERRY CHRISTMAS (eve)!_

_ps, this is somewhat heavily based on private as well as gossip girl, don't judge me. _


	3. chapter o2

_**chapter o2.**_

Skye Hamilton had been called a lot of things in life. Bitch, slut, slimy, etc. She wasn't exactly slimy, a bitch maybe. A slut when it called for it, but _never_ slimy or lowly - _definitely not_.

Although currently, Skye was smitten.

Smitten for a certain dark haired, brooding and angsty delicacy known as Kemp Hurley. Lucky for her, he was standing right in front of her, searching for something or the other in the confines of the third floor library study hall in which earlier Skye had seen him with that good-for-nothing bimbo, Kristen.

Adjusting the _**SH**_ broach on her chest and patting down the top of her head, following by twisting her chignon tighter, she approached him, all smiles. She flashed him her CrestWhite, Covergirl worthy grin and placed a hand on the oak table, a rumble erupted from the bumping together of her Tiffany&Co. bracelets.

"Skye, hey," he smiled at her and she nearly swooned. His dark, floppy curls had been cut shorter, no doubt for the new school year, and he was wearing a Ralph Lauren polo covered by a thin Jos A. Bank sweater (she'd accompanied her brother on a few shopping trips recently, she wasn't _that_ creepy). His eyes were a dark gray that literally popped against his tanned skin and she could not deny that summer, obviously at one of his parents' beach homes, had done him well - just like how Skye wished to do him, _mind her_.

"How are you, Kemp?" She asked, popping his collar absentmindedly. He smiled at her without parting his lips and then stood straighter, his eyes wandering to a fallen iPhone 5 that was laying on the floor. The scent of alcohol lingered on him, but Skye didn't mind, she'd change all that and more once they were happily dating. She needed a plan first, but flirting was always an option.

"Great," he nodded, still smiling. He wasn't really a man of many words, unless he was around the comfort of his closer friends, like that whore Massie Block for instance or Alicia Rivera and her wandering hands. "And you?" He cleared his throat, his deep voice echoing across the walls of the study room.

"Fine, well I mean, I _could_ be better," she batted her eyelashes and then looked up at Kemp through them. He liked women, lots of them, had hookers called in from various countries just to keep him happy, he'd fall prey to Skye though, and she was certain of it. There was _no_ woman like her.

"Why's that?" He asked, bending down to grab the phone, he set it on the table and Skye let her eyes flit to the screensaver, it was a picture of Kristen, Massie and Alicia on the beach. She scoffed and Kemp took the phone and slid it in his pocket coolly, it was obviously Kristen's, who Skye was still surprised to find as Kemp's best friend; what was he doing with a virgin teetotaler like her?

Skye grabbed his collar delicately and scooted closer to him, they were only inches apart now and she could feel the heat emanating off of his tanned skin, "you still haven't kissed me," she stated, looking up at him.

Raising his dark brown eyebrows, taken aback from the sudden attention he leaned forward, composing himself, "you never asked." His response was casual, just how Skye had imagined and then in a moment she had pulled his face down to hers and kissed him, her hands making their way from his collar to his hair while his hands snaked around her waist.

The door to the study room opened and Kemp pulled away, Kristen Gregory was standing there with her pink lips in 'o' form, and she turned bright red at what she had just walked into.

"I'm sorry," she said, glued to the spot, "Kemp," she added, shooting a dirty look at Skye. "I-I came back for my phone because you were taking a while...but never mind, I'll see you later."

Skye smirked, this was even more perfect than she had planned. Kristen would tell Massie, she was probably on her way there at that instant, and then Massie would be enraged probably and want to take action, but_ oh_, _she couldn't_. Not after Skye took those pictures on her phone because now she had Massie Block in the palm of her hand and Skye refused to rest until Massie and her friends were grovelling at her pedicured feet and begging for mercy.

"Now, where were we?"

* * *

Dylan hated the heat. Especially the kind that stuck to her and mussed up her already curly hair; it was like a clingy girlfriend and Dylan had had enough. The large bay windows of her bedroom were wide open, the hot breeze tickling her nose as her eyes pressed shut to keep out the prying sunlight. Her hair was splayed out around her and her hands were turned upwards as to dry her sweating palms. The afternoon had reached it's peak and she could hear her heartbeat in the silence of her room.

"Dylan, at least put your underwear in the given drawers, I'd prefer if people didn't walk in and see your intimates." Nina Callas's voice was something Dylan had learned to ignore. Much like a scolding mother, Nina's stern tone pierced Dylan's ears in a way she rather disliked. "_My god_, pull your shorts up, I can see more of your panties!"

Dylan snorted at Nina's choice word (it wasn't like Dylan hadn't walked in on Nina and Kemp having a _very_ heated moment) but silently yanked down the Batman boxers she was wearing, the rest of her body staying in the exact same position.

If she were to open her eyes and look around, she was sure the room would be exactly as it always was: her side messy with food wrappers, a pile of borrowed video games, wires for various electronics spread out for perfect tripping ground, and clothes thrown in a pattern that looked like someone had literally skipped around the room dotting the floor with shirts. Nina's side was always uncomfortably clean, as if Nina believed their housemother's motto that "a room is the window to a woman's true self", everything was in it's place and little sticky notes were placed in random areas reminding Nina to do things or leaving little motivational quotes. Nina even left Dylan little notices like, "GOOD LUCK ON YOUR TEST!" or "ALWAYS SMILE B/C YOU NEVER KNOW, SOMEONE MIGHT FALL IN LOVE WITH IT!" and other stupid and cheesy things that Chris or Derrick or Cam and _especially_ Landon would laugh at for days and mimic in poor impersonations of teenage girls.

It was all very Kristen-wannabe like.

"Dylan Josephine Marvil, get the_ fuck_ up," Nina said in a low, threatening voice. Dylan could almost _hear_ Nina's hands on her hips. Dylan just smirked slightly and turned away. "If you don't get up now, then I'm going to report you to the housemother and she's going to find all your alcohol and you're going to have to say goodbye to all your friends."

Ugh, _really_?

Sighing, Dylan got up, rubbed the side of her head and stared at her roommate.

"You are the most irritating female ever."

"Thank you, I'm expecting a certificate with that exact phrase on it, now_ clean up_. Oh, and take a shower too. It looks like pixies just attacked your head." Nina turned around, picking up a stack of Vogues which she shelved into her infinite collection of Vogues, placed in numerical order on her side of the room, her black hair swished with its light weight and glistened from a summer of good care.

Nina only nearly missed the haphazardly covered pillow as it flew gracefully past her head.

"_Dylan!_"

* * *

"What exactly am I looking at?" Chris asked Landon. The paper before him was painted in a way that was too abstract to actually make anything out of. He looked up at Landon who smugly tightened the scarf around his neck..._it was August_.

"My summer art project; it's a woman bathing in South Africa." Chris snorted and then fell back into one of the plush couches in the Bentley dorms' West Wing common room. "Are you laughing? I paid a thousand dollars to have my housekeeper's daughter, who goes to RISD for your information, to paint this. Honestly Christopher, have some class..."

Landon's irritatingly stoic and proper voice droned on but Chris drowned him out, turning in his seat and staring out the window. He wondered what Olivia Ryan was doing right now, the uber hot and sweet girl who lived somewhere beyond the trees covering the Layton house.

He had to stop, she was just some girl and besides, _Josh liked her_.

"Are you listening to me?" Landon asked, seating himself beside Chris. He followed Chris's gaze and rolled his eyes, then proceeded to smirk,"thinking about Ms. Gregory are you?" Chris ignored Landon again, he had told the boys the previous year that he actually had a terrible crush on Kristen and was therefore bummed 24 hours a day because she had a boyfriend. It was the easiest way out of talking about the real problem.

It wasn't fair that Chris just couldn't get a free pass; his life was a glamorous mess too. How could Kemp just be allowed to drink it all away and Derrick could just hold up a middle finger and everyone just forgot? But _no_, Chris was Plovert, the guy who had all the answers and if he couldn't supply a reason to be unhappy then everyone would probably have a mental breakdown.

To play fair and because he was curious, Chris spoke anyway, "What do you think of Griffin?"

"In the simplest of terms dear Plovert, and speaking with a phrase overused by our beloved Derrick himself: he is a bag of dicks." Chris grinned and shrugged. Griffin Hastings was kind of cool in a very typical way, he had that authentic bad-boy persona (but he was anything but bad) about him. Griffin hated practically everyone and still managed to care a lot about Kristen and his grades, and yet he spent most of his time smoking different herbs and listening to rock music. It actually wasn't surprising that the chain smoking, R&B listening boy snagged the paper-pushing, studious, popular girl with a slight rebellious streak - wasn't that the kind of cliche shit they had in _all_ the movies?

Sometimes Chris thought about it, Griffin was pretty safe in a sense. All his cards were out on the table. He wasn't so much bad as he was a teenage boy. He liked Drake and J. Cole and played a lot of shitty music on his guitar. Maybe that's what Kristen liked, that no matter what, Griffin was always the same. He didn't really like to party all that much either. In fact, he was a hell of a lot safer than dating Kemp or Derrick or Cam, even himself and Josh were a lot more fucked up than Griffin. Griffin even came with zero baggage.

Chris wasn't a pansy but he sure as hell thought it wasn't fair that Griffin could get a girlfriend when he certainly could not. He wanted one of those high school relationships that you remembered years later, with one of those reminiscent smiles on your face.

He sighed again,"Well, I'm going for a walk, you wanna come?" He knew the answer before he even asked.

"Of course not." Chris just shrugged and walked away, but not before shooting one last glance out the window.

* * *

"_Josh_," Oliva whined, pulling at his J Crew Henley, he rolled his brown eyes and then turned to her, mussing up his hair with his hand, a steely look in his eyes.

"I refuse to drive you into town to meet some sleaze, Liv. Besides, the drive is like _three fucking hours_ and I am not sitting my ass in Derrick's asshole SUV for _three fucking hours_ just to go to some club and then drive back for another _three fucking hour_s."

Olivia sighed and tucked a flaxen lock of hair behind her ear, tugging at her ponytail and then gathered her hair up again, putting it all to the side. Josh had always found her to be extremely gorgeous, _everyone_ always had. She just didn't get it though. She didn't understand that he didn't want to take her to meet some sketchy Upper East Side prep who couldn't even get into GPA (well Josh didn't even know if the kid had applied, but whatever) not because of the drive - in reality he could have and probably _would_ have, driven her for hours if the chance had ever arisen - but because he was kind of into her, _more_ than kind of if he was being honest.

"Nikki, can you_ please_ tell him?" Nikki who was still lying in Josh's room, flipping through **GQ** and smoking yet another cigarette simply grunted. Josh knew that Nikki probably cared little to nothing for Olivia and found his infatuation for her to be rather ridiculous, but after convincing Josh to rent out a hotel room at the most expensive hotel in all of Connecticut just for a stupid party that Nikki thought would be fun, she owed him.

"It's a bad idea, Oralia," she mumbled, dragging the cigarette from her lips and letting a trail of smoke follow. It was kind of hot watching Nikki smoke, in a weird, twisted way. Josh blamed Cam for that thought. Cam always rambled on that Nikki Dalton smoking was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen and never quite shut up about it.

"Olivia," Josh shot back, Nikki didn't even look up. Olivia on the other hand hadn't noticed, and instead was staring at Josh with her deep, navy blue eyes with desperation and hope. She tilted her head and her pale blonde hair toppled to the side.

Josh _should_ say no.

Olivia wasn't dumb enough to not realize that he would do _anything_ for her.

He couldn't let her just push him around like that, if he did then he'd be stuck in the friendzone for the next fifty years and grow old and bitter while she settled down with some douchebag and had four kids-

"Josh?"

He looked up at the ceiling, just knowing he'd regret it, "fine, just this once."

She smiled brightly at him and lunged, enveloping him in a hug that smelled like her jasmine perfume and her strawberry shampoo, both extremely intoxicating and equally mind numbing. Nikki snorted at Josh and shook her head.

For a moment it was worth it.

"So, I'll meet you in the parking lot Friday at 5?" Josh could have kicked himself, but he was sure Nikki or one of the guys would do it for him.

* * *

There were several things Massie Block could do in this situation.

First and foremost, she could kill herself. Everyone would cry over the loss and there would be a big parade and a painting of her hung up in Layton. There would even be a pomp and circumstance funeral, a bigger event than Kim K's wedding. People would fast for days and her parents would bawl and lament over their perfect daughter. Harvard would send a representative to bring her acceptance letter to the funeral and let _everyone_ know how disappointed they'd be without having such an exceptional student studying with them.

The problem was, Massie Block loved herself far too much to actually do away with herself, and besides, the world needed a little light after all.

The second thing she could do was somehow slip Skye into a car, knock her out and turn on the gas - carbon monoxide poisoning was a common thing. Or maybe there could be an accident with Skye's tea...then Massie could easily hire someone to dispose the body in the nearest cemetery, _no one would suspect a thing._

Shaking her silky, chestnut tresses, and finger combing them away from her face, Massie decided that those two ideas weren't any good.

Currently she was sitting with her hands gripped at the edge of her Queen bed, mutinously staring across the room at the mirror on Kristen's side. _Damn,_ she looked good, even in this terrible predicament. Sighing, she kicked off her Louboutin, suede pumps and reclined on her bed.

_What to do?_

A quick rap at the door had Massie shoot up, she tied her hair up with one quick flip and then, in her most collected and cool voice she spoke, "Come in."

Someone fiddled with the door and Massie rolled her amber eyes, _idiot_. Finally with one click the door was pushed open and standing in it's wake was Derrick Harrington. Brother of the most evil creature on the planet.

He stood there for a second surveying his surroundings, his button-up rolled to his elbows to obviously show off his toned arms. His hair was tousled and messy as if a girl had just run her hands through it - _not_ that Massie would have been surprised if a girl _had_. His eyes glinted with blatant mischief and finally his caramel eyes met hers and a wolfish grin spread across his good-looking features.

"I've been looking for you," he said conversationally, trekking across the mess of a room. Kristen's side was immaculately clean while Massie's shoes were scattered on the floor with a Burberry Porsum trench coat and several other intimates that Massie hoped Derrick would overlook - he had the gall to smirk when he saw them.

"Why?" Her voice became kind of hoarse at this, her eyes widening. Had Skye told Derrick about it? She swallowed thickly and Derrick walked closer, his eyes trained on the brunette on the bed as if he had come to assassinate her - _Beautiful Girl Murdered by Crazy Big Man on Campus_, the headlines would read. Or was that too long? His Armani cologne was engulfing her, relaxing her before his inevitable kill.

"Nothing, I got bored." She let out a deep breath when he collapsed next to her on the bed and reached for her gem encrusted remote, flipping on the television. "ESPN? Or actually I think there's a game with Spain and Portugal. Why do you look like that? You're acting like I came in to execute you."

Massie cracked a smile and then pushed his Diesel covered legs off of her bed, "No, you just caught me off guard." She leaned back onto her pillows staring at the TV and trying and failing at ignoring the close distance between herself and Derrick. If Skye were here she'd have a field day. _That lowly bitch_.

Massie wondered if Derrick knew that he lived with a crazy person or if in fact he was crazy too.

She'd known him for years, from diapers to pads to birth control - he'd been there through it all. Maybe he was just good at hiding his crazy, everyone was, right? Even Massie, however perfect she was, had a few things she knew she had to keep to herself.

"Massie Block, _off guard_? I came at a good time then, didn't I?" He winked at Massie and she felt shivers cascade down her spine.

_Did he remember_? Of course he didn't...it was late and they were drunk and the coat closet was easy to forget. Except she _hadn't_ forgotten. She hadn't forgotten the way he had kissed her, pushed her up against the mint green walls and told her that he had feelings for her. She had reciprocated of course, _she was drunk._ There was no way in hell that Skye had gotten wind of it...but somehow she had.

It wasn't Massie's fault though, she was vulnerable and piss-_drunk_ and needed a place to hide.

Derrick had come up to her, smelling like heaven and Scotch and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone (showing a little preview of his tanned chest) - he _knew_ that drove her crazy. He'd whispered that she looked nice in her dress, smiled at her in that charming way and she'd gone weak at the knees, she was also _drunk_.

He hadn't called her hot though, he'd called her _beautiful_ and in moments she'd grabbed his tie and was pulling him into the nearest enclosed space, her lips on his and her hands running through that bloody, soft, mess of hair, like she'd _always_ wanted to. It had made it all he more exciting because Danny was outside, looking for her, searching for her - _her _Danny. But there she was, hauled up in a 4 by 4 pressed against Derrick Harrington and his bloody sculpted chest, her legs hooked around his waist, and his lips were on her neck, his hands at her hips and she had never felt so thrilled before. There was _electricity_ - but Massie had long since concluded that that could happen with any boy if given the right amount of alcohol intake, his top two buttons open, if his hair was messy enough and all of this had to be/happen within a close distance of a coat closet.

She had also been very _drunk_.

"I hate this channel," Massie snapped quickly, Derrick turned his head and shrugged.

"Sucks."

He didn't remember a thing. _Fucking bastard_.

"Seriously, Derrick," she chided, keeping those horrid memories at bay as she pursed her Lancome coated lips. She grabbed for the remote but he simply placed it on the nightstand. The only way she could get it now was climb over him and that was _not_ happening.

"Seriously, Block," he said sternly, throwing an arm around her. She stiffened. It wasn't right of her to be laying in bed with Derrick Harrington watching soccer like it was no big deal. Not when she had already spent _too_ much time with him. On other circumstances she knew it would be fine, Derrick was a childhood friend, _a close friend_, a confidante. Danny wouldn't mind, but _Massie_ minded.

"I _don't_ want to watch this," she got up and walked around the bed to get the remote. Her DKNY, electric blue shirtdress fluttered in the wind from the open bay window and her fingers curled around the remote (she marveled for a moment at her gold matte, OPI nail polish). Derrick grabbed her arm though, and she fell back into the plush bed, the pillows falling onto her like an avalanche - a representation of the way her life was currently falling apart all because of Skye Hamilton.

"No you don't," he smirked at her and held her bangle covered wrist, which clattered at his touch, and then pried the remote from her hands. She stared, wide-eyed at him, his lips were _right_ there, and he licked them quickly as he worked on ripping the remote from her hand (fucking erotic as hell). Her fingers slackened and the remote fell, hitting her square on the head. _So much for posh, Ms. Block_. Derrick laughed, shaking the bed with his laughter and took the remote, leaning over Massie, his brown eyelashes close enough for her to count and the light splash of freckles on his nose that you wouldn't be able to see from even a foot away, were visible. "Nice try," he whispered.

A splotch of red crept its way up Massie's pale, swan neck and she thought in that split-second of what it would be like to kiss Derrick Harrington while she was sober.

A silly thought.

"Massie!" The door flew open and the color drained from Massie's face, she sat up, almost knocking into Derrick and smoothed her hair down, the headband on her head sparkling in the dimming sunlight. She tried her best to ignore the fact that Derrick's arm was slung around her again, and his focus was back on the TV as if there was nothing to phase him.

Kristen stood in the doorway and picked up a few of the scattered remnants of Massie's things, flinging them on to her side. Alicia followed behind her, braiding her long hair and behind her was a girl who looked out of place among Massie's glamorous things.

Her bitch-mode turned on almost immediately, and she narrowed her amber eyes at the fresh meat that Alicia and Kristen had dared to bring into her sanctuary. The overpowering scent of Derrick's cologne was making her lightheaded, and not in a bad way, this was really not the time for her friends' ignorant antics.

"This is-" Derrick whipped his head around and sat up, removing his hand away from Massie's neck.

"_Allie_?"

Massie Block did _not_ like the sound of that.

* * *

Layne Abeley stared out the window of her dorm, rubbing her temples. She wasn't exactly sure what she had gotten herself into in the past few hours but she was ready to pack up and go home for the summer - again. The actual school year hadn't even started yet. More than anything she wanted to be back in Africa, actually doing something worthwhile. Boarding school was like the ninth circle of hell.

"Another year, another _shit ton_ of brain cells lost listening to all these idiots and smelling all that secondhand weed." She said loudly (maybe not all of it was secondhand), Claire was sitting beside her on the window seat, staring dreamily out the window, her notepad on her lap, the breeze slapping against her face. She reminded Layne of one of those imps in Greek mythology who lured in Gods.

Layne rolled her eyes, only Claire could ever be seen as some kind of beautiful, woodland creature while she stared looking blankly out a window. If it were Layne people would say she looked like an ape cowering in the jungle - not that she minded, she loved apes.

"What did the stars say about this year?" Claire asked her best friend, her lofty voice floating calmly around the white room - which was fitting since both girls were pretty much crazy.

"Nothing special, something about meeting new people. I did however, _excitingly,_ meet Hermia this summer."

Claire raised her eyebrows and turned to Layne, "you mean your idol?"

"I hope you're not mocking me, Claire, because if you ever met one of your favorite artists I'm sure I'd never hear the end of it." Claire smiled at Layne and shrugged, her blonde hair reflecting the sunlight from outside.

"Probably, but maybe not for the same reasons."

"Why's that?" Layne pulled her legs closer to her, the patterned skirt she was wearing fell to the side.

"Well, they're all dead." Layne laughed, sometimes Claire was a riot.

Layne picked up her bowl of baby tomatoes and popped some into her mouth, wondering whether or not her day was eventful enough to torment Claire about. Claire was the kind of person you didn't really want to disturb and Layne was always really disruptive - they worked that way. Sometimes though, Layne didn't want to burden Claire with useless stuff, it was nice that she was so peaceful.

"You'll never guess what happened today," Claire raised a single blonde brow, "I met that_ jackass,_ Derrick Harrington in the library and he had the guts to ask me to help him with his summer work - which he hadn't even started until_ today_! I _hate_ all of them, they're the _worst_ and I have _no_ clue how they even got into this school...oh wait I do,_ their parents' money_."

Claire smiled at her friend and Layne knew that she was keeping her thoughts to herself because Layne herself, just like Claire, had a lot of money to their names but at least they had actually passed the aptitude tests and met all the requirements, but who knew about Harrington's lot?

"He seems nice."

"Please, Claire, don't humor me. Apparently now I'm his tutor and I don't even know how I got involved with that!"

"Maybe because you slept with Cameron Fisher? Aren't they best friends...?" Layne rolled her eyes and waved away Claire's remark. Cam Fisher was a different story, one Layne didn't want to get into - but how could you_ refrain_ from being seduced by someone like him? He had jet black hair and jaded eyes and his whole thing he had going just made you want to jump his bones and Layne was _human_ after all. Layne snorted, "You never know Layne, you might realize he's not that bad."

Which was exactly what Layne feared.

* * *

**a/n: **_sorry for the wait and thanks so much for all of your reviews! (also again, i apologize for spelling and grammar errors because i kind of haven't edited it yet...)_

_i've had a pretty clear view of where this story is going but it's so hard to put it to words. i have like six million rough drafts but i've kind of cut and pasted. you may not be able to see a lot of the characterizations now but the next chapter will really get into things. another note, claire doesn't really seem too lofty and flowery in this chapter and that's because she's with layne and you'll see her pov soon. i'll be doing all the characters' povs but some more than others. also, just because there are certain relationships/dynamics going on here, don't get discouraged because everyone will have a ton of different things going on and the possibilities for pairings are endless (trust me, like i said i have it all planned out). in these chapters you may think someone's going to end up with someone else, but you'd be surprised._

_BYE! i hope you guys are enjoying your summer. _

_again: a lot of this is inspired by private and gossip girl. _


	4. chapter o3

_**chapter o3.**_

There was a knock at Landon's door, waking him from his daze. He was currently reading an unabridged copy of _Les Miserables _for his French AP course, not that he would ever actually study for a class, he just needed something to kill the time.

"Come in," he said, smoothing down the scarf on his neck. He watched as the doorknob twisted slowly, the door pushed open with the energy of none other than Dylan Marvil.

"Thanks for coming to greet me," She said, her wild mane of red hair bouncing as she slammed the door shut behind her; she was wearing her pajamas. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, he smirked slightly. "I thought we were friends, but you didn't even text me when you got here."

"Apologies, _madame_, I have other things to worry about." He sat up and kicked his legs up on the coffee table in front of him. "Besides, you're not Nikki and I'm not Josh - therefore I am not your bitch."

Dylan snorted.

"_Fine_." She made her way over and sat down next to him, throwing her arms around him and then proceeded to bury her face annoyingly into his shoulder. "What are you even doing?" She asked, her voice muffled. Landon rolled his eyes, he could have asked her the same question.

"I _was _reading, but you interrupted me."

"Shut up," she let go of him and then reclined into the arm of the sofa. "Where's Dempsey?" She asked, wagging her eyebrows. Dylan had an obnoxiously obvious crush on him - the only reminder she was actually a girl (well, that and her rather hard to ignore boobs).

"He went out, probably to find Carrie, you know, his_ girlfriend_." Landon was satisfied with Dylan's grimace, always happy to make people unhappy. He was always the giver of vitriol, he didn't mind - someone had to do it. Besides, the faster he snapped Dylan out of her stupid, little crush, the sooner she'd stop forcing them to hang out solely in his dorm room.

"She's such a tart. I mean, she's not even popular." At that, Landon laughed loudly, getting up and walking over to his bookshelf to put his novel away - who was he kidding? He'd probably just cheat off of his desk partner or pay someone to switch tests with him.

"What are we, thirteen? Carrie is hot and you're starting to sound like Massie Block." Landon leaned against his bookshelf and watched Dylan pick at her nails, "don't do that on my couch." He said, undoing his scarf and twisting it back together.

"You're such a _fucking_ _asshole_...do you think I could ask Massie to break them up? Dempsey's too good for Carrie. Which reminds me, apparently she and Nikki are roommates this year. Serves her right." Dylan braided her hair to one side, pulling away the hair that had been clouding her face. Landon had noticed, quite some time ago, that Dylan always had to be doing _something_. She was always fidgeting or moving around and distracting herself from having a normal, steady conversation. He didn't mind though, not that he would tell her that. He always thought it was a testament to their friendship, the fact that he was always so poised and she was never sitting still, they were really able to put up with each other, no matter their differences.

He almost shook his head, he was becoming as lame and sappy as Josh. But it was true, Dylan was - unfortunately - one of his best friends. He assumed that was his own fault, he was after all the only guy she really acted like a girl with, mostly because he humored her and let her talk to him about her melodramatics.

"Serves who right? Nikki or Becca?"

"Hm, both I guess." Dylan shrugged and then tied the ends of her hair together with a burgundy hair tie that, as she had complained time and time again, was the closest she could find to match her hair color.

"Both? Do you hate Nikki or something?" Landon asked teasingly. He knew Dylan's reasons for her dislike of Nikki, but it was always funny to get Dylan riled up about it.

"You know this already, I don't hate her. I personally just think that she could try a hell of a lot harder to be nice. It doesn't take that fucking much to make it happen. I think she's cool and _right on!_ for her to do whatever the fuck she wants but she's not _above_ anyone. She could also be a lot more considerate, her nasty ass cigarette fumes clog up every room she's in, the only person who doesn't mind is Cam and that's because he thinks it's hot and _that's_ only because he's a smoker himself - which is disgusting by the way."

Landon raised his eyebrows, "Interesting...are you going over to Massie's tonight?"

"For her _exclusive_ sleepover?" Dylan snorted again, "please, yeah right. It's just Alicia, Massie and Kristen anyway - the Unholy Trinity. Besides, I thought we're playing drunk Twister in Derrick's and Cam's room?" She got up and stretched.

"Ah, I almost forgot. What a thrilling experience, a bunch of boys getting wasted together, only to fall on top of one another minutes later in the heat of one of the most sexual children's games ever created. I think I'll pass." Landon yawned. "You guys are getting more and more boring as the days go by."

"Excuse me? I'm a girl-"

"You know what I meant-"

"Just come anyway, it'll be funny...what is _this_?" She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at the painting Landon had paid his housekeeper's daughter to make for him. If he didn't get an A+ on that, someone would be getting fired. He tightened his scarf and grinned.

"I haven't showed you yet?"

* * *

The hot breeze pushed Cam's hair up and then dropped it, as if it were teasing him. He frowned, he felt as if the start of the year was rather anti-climactic, but that's how it always was here. There wasn't really much you could do on campus and with classes starting the next day no one dared throw a rager; it was disappointing but Cam was too lazy to be the one to do what had to be done and throw a party.

His phone buzzed but he ignored it, continuing his walk through the campus, quietly scanning over all that he had been away from the past three months. Goldenrod was home in some ways which his own home wasn't. He tried to rack his brain and remember the last time he had really _lived_ at home. Perhaps when he was in elementary school, back in the fifth grade when he was ten years old and was scared to leave home. Now he was always going from one vacation home to the next - at least it wasn't dull.

His phone buzzed again, rolling his eyes, he took it out of his pocket, staring momentarily at the picture that came up. It was Derrick, maybe in the eighth grade, pretending to do lines of Pixie Sticks - it never failed to amuse Cam. "What?"

"Ow, harsh, man."

"Oh, I'm _sorry_," his deep voice rumbled through the phone, "Good evening, Mr. Harrington, what can I do for you today?"

"Can you come to Massie's room?" Derrick asked hurriedly. Cam stopped walking, quirking an eyebrow up in confusion. Derrick sounded like he was borderline panicking.

"I'm not really into threesomes with two guys man, sorry. Besides, you're like my broth-"

"_You're not being funny_," Derrick said, through what sounded like gritted teeth. "Just do me a solid, come up here." Cam made a show of sighing loudly, it wasn't actually like he had anything better to do. He had just been taking a stroll through campus, winking at girls and pretending to care about people who came up to greet him and ask him how his summer was. Plus, he'd only seen Derrick briefly since he had run off to the library in search of Massie right after he had thrown all of his things unceremoniously in their room. Cam had been left with the task putting all of Derrick's things away, and by all of his things he meant _everything_. Condom boxes, underwear - the whole deal. Sometimes it sickened Cam how close they were, but neither of them really mentioned it to anyone else; the damage it would do if people found out was kind of horrifying.

"I'll be there in five minutes. When I walk in, your fucking pants better be on your body."

The walk to the Layton girls' dorms took Cam less than two minutes, he had been wandering nearby anyway. Layton was one of the two "honors" halls, but really it was for the people who were paying more and actually mattered (ex. they were legends because they had family who were alumni, their parents were donating a ton, they or their family members were famous, sometimes if you were exceptionally brilliant, etc.), the other such dorm were the Bentley boys' dorms.

Cam had to get through this stupid garden, that he absolutely loathed, to get to the actual front of the Layton dormitory. It was filled with those stupid arches and tons of plants with placards explaining their origins and importance, and tons of butterflies fluttering through the whole damn place - it was basically Cam's nightmare. A large fountain stood right in front of the steps to Layton, spewing fresh water that was changed every other day, very similar to the one in front of Bentley.

Entering the building Cam reminded himself that next time he'd enter from the side, where there wouldn't be any greenery poking at him. He was immediately hit with the scent of jasmine when he got inside. Similar to Bentley, the double, winding staircases were lined with pictures of alumni and a large crystal chandelier was positioned directly above the marble floors. In the large foyer was a check-in desk (he smirked remembering that he had once hooked up with Ahnna, the receptionist) and bouquets of freshly picked flowers sat at the center table. On either side was an aquarium with colorful fish and tables with activities to do in the surrounding area. Bentley's front foyer just had a table with a big terrarium, but similar fish tanks did line the walls. In general, Bentley was a lot more minimal in comparison.

He took the stairs up two flights, passing giggling girls who called after him and stopped him to flirt. It ended up taking him seven minutes to get to Massie's and Kristen's room, rather than the original five he had promised.

He didn't spend too much time in room _327_, that was more of Derrick's hiding place. While Cam too had been friends with Massie for much of his life, he didn't really find her dorm to be a sanctuary, mainly because of who her roommate was. Massie was one type of evil, but _Kristen_? Kristen was the devil.

He ran a hand through his hair and stared at the door before knocking, "it's Cam." He looked around, the halls weren't as crowded as he imagined they had been that morning, with parents and movers running in and out and with girls greeting each other after a summer apart.

There was a pregnant pause before loud laughter erupted from the other side, someone giggled, "I'll get it! _I'll get it!_"

The door opened and standing in its wake was Kristen, hair messy and donning a lopsided smile on her face, she was clearly a little drunk and the wine bottle in her hand confirmed Cam's assumption. She was wearing a loose white camisole slip dress, with a thin pendent on her neck, something everyone had been told time and time again that her boyfriend Griffin had given her. Her face was flushed at the apples of her cheeks and her blue eyes were brighter than usual.

Cam was speechless.

"Don't be a stranger, come in, Cammie," she giggled again, grabbing his hand and tugging him inside, shutting the door with her foot. She tripped and Cam grabbed her, "I've been drinking," she whispered loudly, "_shhh_."

"Really? I wasn't able to tell." He smirked at her and she laughed, yanking him and then pushing him on the ground next to Derrick. Derrick looked at him apologetically. "She's fun when she's drunk." Cam nodded to Kristen, Derrick smiled.

The TV was playing that dumb movie _Clueless_ in the background; Massie adored it when they were younger and would always insist they watch it.

Cam surveyed the people in the room. There was Alicia, who was sitting on the couch and smiling to herself, looking utterly blissful with a joint in her hand. Then there was Massie who looked a little sick, her bottle of wine had barely been touched. Massie smiled at Cam but it didn't seem to reach her eyes, he decided that he'd rather not ask. Besides, when did she smile as a greeting? It was usually all abrasiveness and bluntness with that girl. Then, he noticed (he almost hadn't) that the girl who had walked in on him and Alicia earlier that morning was sitting on the other side of Derrick, an almost empty wine glass in her hand. She looked out of place in Kristen's and Massie's glamorous room, it was almost comical.

"What was your name again?" Cam leaned over and asked, the girl looked up from her cup, startled.

"Her name is Allie-Rose." Massie said frigidly, "and apparently it was somehow relayed to her that it was okay to show up to my room without an invitation. Massie turned to look out the window. Someone was pissed.

Allie-Rose struggled under Cam's gaze, refusing to meet his eyes.

Kristen chimed in, "she's Alicia's roommate and Derrick's _fraaaaaand_." She laughed again.

"She's your what?" Cam asked, turning to Derrick. Derrick raised his arms and stretched them, then pushed his sleeves up. Cam waited patiently, it was just something you had to do with Derrick who always took his own sweet, goddamn time.

"We met at that summit thing I went to in London last summer," Derrick answered, he looked Cam directly in the eye and raised his eyebrows slightly - Cam took it to mean that Derrick had clearly hooked up with this girl, he wasn't really surprised. The look also insinuated that Derrick would explain the entire situation later.

"It was for debate...I think." Allie-Rose commented. From the way she was sitting next to Derrick it seemed as if she were entirely comfortable with him, Cam took note of it to bring up later.

"Sounds exciting."

"Speaking of exciting," Derrick said loudly, changing the subject, "I ran into a lover of yours in the library. A certain Ms. Layne Abeley. She tried to make me return your underwear to you."

Cam chuckled, "she's hilarious."

"You hooked up with her?" Alicia asked curiously. Alicia and Cam hooked up whenever they were bored, it was never anything serious and neither of them were particularly attached, it was_ fun, _to say the least. "I thought we were together this morning?" A crease appeared in between her brows, and her usually articulate voice, with it's thick accent, were softer, no doubt due to the pot.

"I hooked up with her last semester. She's probably still not over it." Cam shrugged jokingly (well, he was partially joking) and Derrick rolled his eyes.

Kristen clicked her tongue, "You hook up a lot," She jabbed a finger at his chest, he touched where she had poked him - it had surprisingly hurt. "Have you ever thought of just having a girlfriend? It's nice." She slurred.

"You've had a girlfriend?" Cam queried. He was mainly just provoking her.

"_Noooo_," she continued her giggling, "I mean a re-la-tion-ship," she said slowly. "It's like having a fuck-buddy who also hangs out with you." Cam's face was probably showing complete disbelief. He turned to see if Derrick was listening but he was talking to Allie. Massie was still staring off into the distance like a psychopath and Alicia was back to smiling.

"You know what's better than that?" Kristen shook her head 'no' and leaned forward in curiosity. "A fuck-buddy. A regular, run-of-the-mill,_ fuck-buddy_."

Kristen pouted and Cam stared at her lips, she licked the wine off of them and then sat back. He'd always found her to be attractive, but the way she hated him was a turn-off. "We don't really hang out a lot." She said, drinking more of her wine. She ran her fingers through her hair, but her hair simply fell back into her face.

"We don't," Cam agreed. She looked up at the clump of hair that had fallen into her face and blew up at it, making it float before it came back down. She looked annoyed, Cam grinned. She then turned her attention back on him, smiling bashfully.

"Let's change that," she winked at him and then laughed, laying down on the carpet. He tried to remind himself that Kristen was venomous and hated him with every fiber of her being, but inebriated Kristen was a completely different story. She was funny, her foot then hit him in the neck, _for the most part_.

* * *

"Griffin, you're being pretentious." Layne said loudly.

"How? I'm just expressing myself! Claire's expressing herself and drawing right now, how is _that_ not pretentious?" Griffin retorted. Claire ignored the both of them, trying to find the perfect way to draw the dining hall from where she was seated. It was probably the only building on the entire campus that she hadn't drawn yet. She wanted to do it justice.

"Yeah, but Claire's self-expression isn't making any noise, _yours_ is." Layne made an effort to grab Griffin's guitar but he pulled it away and she ended up landing beside Claire's knee. Claire peered down at her. "It's hot," Layne whined. "Why couldn't we sit inside the cafeteria?"

"For someone who's so in touch with nature, you think you'd be able to eat lunch outside-"

"Insult me one more time and I'll rip your testicles off, you'll look just like a fucking Ken doll down there! Go find your A-List girlfriend and suck her face off like you usually do." Layne shoved him so he teetered before quickly breaking his fall with the palm of his elbow. Claire laughed lightly, and continued the outline of her sketch. She knew what Layne was saying was completely untrue, it rarely ever happened that Griffin and his girlfriend were seen in public together, let alone making out.

Griffin was nice. He wasn't Claire's closest friend but she enjoyed when Layne brought him along, he completed the ragtag group when he was there. He never really bothered Claire either, he minded his own business for the most part, but Layne seemed to bring out the worst in him.

"Wha- why would you say that?" Claire looked up momentarily, she couldn't quite tell if Griffin's face looked red because of the sunlight striking his face or because he was flustered. "We never-"

"Calm down, lover boy." Layne pushed him again, but not as harshly. "Speaking of your girlfriend, where is she?" Layne was twisting her dark hair into a bun, peering at Griffin from beneath her thick glasses. Claire had always found her best friend to be beautiful, she had a very striking beauty, but the type that you could easily overlook if you weren't paying enough attention. Claire adored drawing people like that. The type of people that were discreetly attractive, never wanting to cause too much of a ruckus with their looks, it was that everyday pretty that mattered most.

"She's with her friends," he responded gruffly. At this point, Claire had abandoned all efforts at drawing. Her long, fringe, white dress was no doubt getting stained by the fresh grass, but it was a sacrifice she was all too willing to make. She had tried before to count how many of her clothes had been stained green by Goldenrod's grass, but the current count was..._countless_.

"Is that a bad thing?" Claire asked, picking up on Griffin's tone. He seemed startled by her and looked up. Claire never really asked questions to be harmful, she never shared the answers or really judged people, it wasn't her place.

"No, I guess it's not...but I d'unno...they're a bunch of assholes, that whole group." Layne laughed raucously, she leaned forward and fist-bumped him, which he responded to without the same enthusiasm. "Shut up, 'Lay."

"I hate that nickname, and you know it." She said, sobering up quickly. "Do you have any weed?" She asked, poking him in the upper arm.

"You yourself just said it was hot, I'm not trying to smoke in this heat." Griffin scowled at her and rolled up the sleeves of his black t-shirt, as if to prove his point.

"It's never too hot for pot," Layne sing-songed, Claire smiled at her. She looked beyond her friend and noticed a flash of red hair nearby, was that her brother? She bit her lip. How could that be possible? Todd was supposed to attend ADD, the private high school near their mother's townhouse in Manhattan. "You two can go smoke, I'll find you later." Claire smiled at them and got up, picking up her things and walking to where she'd seen what looked like either her brother or his doppelganger.

"_Are you sure?_" Layne had called after her, but Claire didn't respond.

She hurried to the dining hall, where masses of students were filtering in and out. At this point, no one really stared at her or gave her much attention, she was always able to easily slip through the crowds.

"Todd?" She called out, someone whipped around. "Todd?" Seconds later her brother was standing in front of her, his red hair was curling on his forehead and he seemed happier than he had been in a while. It was almost like he had become himself again.

"Hey, Claire!" The crowd was pushing past them, ignoring their presence altogether. "How are you?"

Claire tilted her head, her blonde hair fell to one shoulder as she surveyed him. You wouldn't have been able to tell they were siblings unless you looked at their eyes which were the exact same shade of cornflower blue. "Why are you here?" She asked, her tone never accusatory.

"I go here," he responded, whipping out his ID card to show her and then rocked on the balls of his feet. Claire only stared at him in response, he sighed, "I got mom to agree to send me here. Dad has no clue." The way he said "dad" was almost unbearable. Claire assumed it was because he hadn't use the word in so long, she hadn't much either, come to think of it. It was foreign on his tongue, and it made her shiver.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asked, holding tightly to her sketchpad, it gave her comfort.

"Because you were with _him_." He stated simply, she opened her mouth to respond but he cut her off by raising his hand, "I know, you had to stay with him, but you didn't want to, I get it." Todd looked up, avoiding her eye contact.

Claire frowned, when had things become awkward between her and Todd? Todd was once her best friend, the only person that she would be talk to. At the least, he was her baby brother, wasn't that enough? She had always been the one to comfort him when he was injured and the one who read him stories in the night because no one else would. She looked at the faded blue edges of her hair, when had the dye faded? When had everything changed in the blink of an eye, and where was she when it had happened?

"Yo, Todd! They have the _best_ tater tots. Are you coming?" A boy Todd's age with cropped brown hair, that made him look like the child he was, tugged at Todd's arm and Todd finally brought his eyes to Claire's, the same ones on her own face - the eyes that kept them bonded for the rest of their life, whether he liked it or not.

"I have to go, see you around." He turned around and left, leaving Claire alone in the crowd. In that moment she felt utterly hopeless. Was this pain normal for teenagers? Was it just part of The Teenage Experience?

People bumped into her and pushed her from all sides, her only clutch was the sketchpad pressed against her chest.

* * *

It was twilight when Kemp realized the weight of the mistake he had just made. Skye Hamilton was stroking his chest and pressing her lips to it. Her lipstick had long since faded and her hair was all pushed to one side.

Maybe if he just shut his eyes she would disappear. Maybe this was all one really bad sex dream that was some kind of fluke and he'd wake up and go to class the next day and joke about it at lunch with his friends.

He was waiting for Chris to walk in and give him a look of utmost surprise with a heavy hint of disgust, but it never happened. He had no clue how to tell Skye that he really wanted nothing to do with her and needed her to get lost - but that just wasn't the type of thing you told a Hamilton. His blood ran cold when he remembered Derrick.

What the fucking hell was Kemp going to tell Derrick? '_Oh, sorry I just banged your step-sister but I have no intention of ever dating her or ever doing anything with her ever again._' That would play out horribly. Derrick and Skye had been step-siblings since they were seven, and it was no Life With Derek situation. No, life with _Derrick Harrington_ was Derrick being constantly annoyed by Skye but being protective of her nonetheless.

For a millisecond he felt it was worth it, but it didn't last.

And _oh_, what about Kristen? How was he supposed to explain himself to_ her_? She had seen them and had probably gone off and told Massie and Alicia. He wanted to vomit or jump out the window, or a mixture of both.

"What are you thinking about?" Skye asked coyly.

_'How to explain myself to my friends about how I regret every minute of this' _

"You." At least it wasn't a complete lie. That seemed to satisfy her, she smiled largely back at him, her sharp incisors reminding Kemp of some kind of predator. This reminded him that it didn't matter how he wrote this off to everyone else because Skye Hamilton would pierce his heart with her heels if he were to try to slip away from her - that he knew indefinitely. "I have to turn in some of my work online."

Kemp lifted himself up, but Skye held him down.

"When did you become so studious?" She purred, kissing his neck. His brain went into red alert mode, he wasn't about to go through the whole process again with Skye. "I like it." He relaxed.

"I have to do it soon, it's getting late." He removed her arms from him and got up, putting on his boxers shamefully. How had he just laid there in her arms like a sissy before realizing the severity of what he had done? His mind immediately went to Josh. Josh would know what to do, Josh knew how girls worked...kind of.

"But, _babe_."

Kemp almost choked.

"I have to." He said more adamantly, he held down the obvious distress in his voice. His throat and lips were dry and his throat was completely parched, he needed water. He raked his hands through his hair and then opened the window. He gripped the windowsill until his knuckles went white. Maybe he was just overreacting.

Then he thought of Claire. What would she think of him? Whatever little interest she may have had in him (did she even have _any_ interest in him at all?) would evaporate the moment he were to tell her he had a girlfriend, let alone if that girlfriend was Skye Hamilton.

He shook his head, he was being ridiculous now. He was Kemp Hurley, he didn't let other people hold him down, he did his own thing..._right_? Skye's arms were around him and he shut his eyes.

"I'll see you later," she said into his ear and then kissed his jawline when he didn't make a move to turn around. He mumbled some sort of agreement that struggled to come out of his throat and waited for the door to click shut. "Bye!" He almost shed a tear of happiness when she left, he let out a deep breath and stood in the same stance until the door opened again.

He whipped his head around thinking that it was Skye back for seconds.

"You look like you're about to cry, and did I just see Skye Hamilton leave our room?" Chris took his shirt off and flung it on the bed. He walked over to his closet and rummaged through it. "It's hot as hell out there, my god. My fucking deodorant is working overtime-"

"What have I done?" Kemp groaned, sitting down on his bed. "I slept with Skye fucking Hamilton! I let her hold me and call me babe!" His head was in his hands at this point, pulling at his hair. "I'm starting off junior year in a goddamn relationship, this is the absolute _worst_. Tell me I'm being Punk'd, Christopher._ Tell me I'm being Punk'd!_"

There was utter silence and Kemp looked through his fingers, Chris was just staring at him, his face was expressionless.

"Do you also want me to hold your naked body and call you babe?" Chris asked, his face breaking out into amusement. He began to snigger and then fell into a fit of cackling. Kemp couldn't help but smile back at his best friend, and then chuckled along with him. Soon they were both holding their stomachs and laughing, their eyes filled with tears. "This has got to be the best thing that has _ever_ happened, oh my god." Chris said through his laughter.

When they were both calm enough, still breaking into chortles in the following silence every few seconds, Chris turned away. He went to the mini fridge, still tittering from whatever it was they were laughing it, Kemp wasn't even sure. When he returned his face was somber and he was holding two beers.

"In all honesty, you're screwed and I think you just became war collateral."

He popped the top open of a bottle and handed Kemp a beer, nodding at him in a sort of eerie salute.

* * *

Even with all the windows open, in her A-line shirt dress and with the A.C. on high, Massie still felt her room, which was gargantuan for a dorm, was stuffy. She had pulled out one of her embroidered fans that she had bought on a previous trip to China and was in the process of vigorously fanning herself.

Alicia was now giggling alone, enjoying her high while enraptured by _Clueless_. Kristen was falling asleep while simultaneously being newly attached to Cam (something she would definitely regret in the morning, but was harmless enough that Massie hadn't stopped her) and Derrick and Allie-Rose were whispering to one another, sharing tales of their fabulous adventures during their summer in London. It was _sickening_.

It only made Massie over think the entire summer she had spent with Derrick in the Hamptons. Sure, they had gone on innumerable family vacations or even vacations with their friends and had spent large portions of every summer, since a young age, in the Hamptons together, but there was just something different about the _past_ summer. From the moment she had stepped out of Danny's BMW and onto the circular driveway of her Hampton home, she had known that things would not be the same as they always had been.

She had been right, of course. Well, _clearly_. Massie, never in a million years, would have imagined that her penultimate night in the Hamptons would have ended with her in a closet with Derrick Harrington, at a very important party that she had gone to with her boyfriend.

Massie had known though, the entire summer that there was something brewing with Derrick. There always seemed to be with that boy, but the past summer it was unlike the ones before it. It wasn't Derrick just being Derrick, it was something else. There were all those surreptitious glances they shared, the way he had joked with undertones of flirtation - it was just _everything_. Every damn moment they had spent together that summer had led to the scene in the closet, as much as she had tried to convince herself, even hours earlier, that it was just her drunken state - she was wrong.

It would have happened, drunk or sober and it took Allie-Rose Singer's appearance to make Massie realize it.

_What did she even expect though?_ That Derrick would want to _date_ her? She almost snorted out loud, of course not. Derrick didn't have solid relationships, not the kind that Massie wanted, had and craved. He wouldn't dote on her and watch her favorite movies without any complaints and be lovingly affectionate. He didn't know how to be that way. After all, he planned to have a surrogate mother and remain single for the rest of his life.

She wanted to go up to him, grab his shirt with both hands and shake him, asking him _why_ he had let that happen and _why_, _oh why_ his sister was a psychopathic bitch. But to do that would be to damn herself. Massie gasped, she felt like she was choking.

Everyone turned to her and she pulled at her collar, "I need air." She declared breathlessly. She almost ran out of the room, but calmed herself down enough to make it a brisk trot. She shut the door behind her and leaned against it once it had closed. A lock of hair from her bun was now hanging in front of her face, mockingly.

What she would have given to return to the days of Barbies and dress-up. Where she, Derrick, Cam and Nikki would sling mud at each other and kick each other in the shins. There was nothing_ passionate_ about that, it was just Massie and Nikki pitted against one another, fighting for Derrick and Cam to take their opposing sides. Massie should have seen it coming though. It was almost like an unofficial agreement that Derrick would go with Massie during a fight and Cam would go to Nikki. Like children of divorce being forced to different parents.

Her phone went off violently against her upper thigh, where it was hidden in the pocket of her dress. It buzzed and shook with vibration, sending Massie into momentary shock. She finally mustered up the courage and pulled it out of it's hiding place, only to stare at the caller-ID, it was Danny. She felt overwhelmed, this was the stupidest (there was no other word to explain it) situation she had ever been in.

Killing Skye and dealing with the consequences would have been a_ lot_ simpler. She ignored the call and gripped the phone in her hand. She closed her eyes, the silence making her feel at peace for a moment and then opened her amber eyes to Skye's taunting face - Massie covered her mouth to keep from shrieking, thankfully there were other girls running around in the halls, witnesses to whatever was coming her way.

"Wh-What are you doing here?" Massie asked, her hand pressed against her chest.

"I didn't scare you did I?" Skye asked, Massie couldn't help but notice the fresh hickey on Skye's neck. Who in their right mind would get into bed with that cockroach?

Skye placed her hand over her own neck, touching the spot Massie had been staring at. _Of course_ Skye had seen, "I was just with Kemp. Kristen didn't tell you?" Skye batted her eyelashes, Massie felt bile forcing it's way up her throat and her skin felt like it was ready to peel off.

"What do you want with Kemp?"

Skye ignored her, "I have your first task. I emailed you the details." Sure enough, Massie's phone pinged with an email alert. She unlocked her phone and opened it. Massie looked up at Skye. Her face looked almost manic, like she was reveling in the moment, her chest rising up and down like an animal.

The door opened behind Massie and she jumped, Derrick was standing in it's wake looking between his sister and Massie in inquiry. Massie wondered if Skye would really do that to her step-brother, the boy she had been raised with for a decade. Would she be willing to out his secret, one he didn't even remember, to the world just to ruin _Massie's_ life?. Skye's face told Massie that she would be willing to do anything to get her way.

"Hey, Skye." Derrick smiled at his sister and then looked down at Massie, "Mass, are you okay? Come back inside, I found an Evian in your fridge, you should drink it." Massie's phone rang again, going off wildly in her hands. The phone slipped out of her sweating palms and hit the floor. Massie looked from Skye, to her phone, to Derrick - her knees nearly buckled.

Skye's mouth spread out into a shit-eating grin, "you better get that. Wouldn't want Danny to start thinking something's up."

* * *

_I just pulled an all-nighter, mainly because it's summer and I can (wow, I sound like a child). I do apologize for how long this took me to write. I just have such an issue with writer's block! Do you guys have any tips on how you get out of your funk? That phrasing was cringe-worthy.__ I've also just gotten into the whole swing of summer (kind of). I graduated a month ago (YIPEE!) and I had just started thinking about a new direction for this story around then but I couldn't write it because I was planning graduation and Senior Bonding Week and all that jazz. Anyway, due to my lack of sleep and because I was mindlessly watching Keeping Up With the Kardashians while writing, there may be a lot of mistakes (I think I say that every time I publish something, and it's always 1000% true).  
_

_It was not intended that this chapter was supposed to be this long. That happened for a couple of reasons, 1) I got carried away and 2) I'm leaving on vacation on Wednesday so although I started writing the next chapter (for once), I won't be able to publish it until later. _

_This chapter is alternatively titled: The Chapter Where Everyone Visits Each Other's Dorms (and future chapters will be much the same), so to clear things up, here are the dorm assignments: Massie and Kristen, Josh and Griffin, Chris and Kemp, Alicia and Allie, Nikki and Carrie, Derrick and Cam, Landon and Dempsey, Claire and Layne, Dylan and Nina, and the dorm that has yet to be introduced - Olivia and Skye. God I fucking hate Skye, but she's such a blast to write for. _

_I also mapped out the entire story, and I'm pretty happy with where it's going. Gawd Save McQueen is the next pit-stop on my road to updates, so keep an eye open for that! By the way, I started to write a Clique version of Pretty Little Liars - I know, I know, it's been done dozens of times before - but this would be more closely following the books (up until the books became more ridiculous than need be) - would you guys be interested? LET ME KNOW LIKE RIGHT NOW!_

_Thanks so much for all of your reviews! I hope you guys are having a nice, warm summer with plenty of air conditioning and lots of Wi-Fi hotspots. _

_xx, Alyssa_


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